Brownies for Breakfast
by Fallen-Angel189
Summary: Oneshot. Everyone deals with difficult situations in different ways. Some people get violent. Some just bake brownies.


Disclaimer: I don't own the characters.

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Next on the list was 1 cup of flour. She measured it carefully and sifted it into a bowl. Adding a bit of baking powder and some cocoa, she tipped the dry ingredients into the mixture she had already made, and stirred. A bit of the mixture splattered onto her shirt, but she ignored it, continuing to stir until the rest of the mixture was relatively smooth. She poured it into the baking tin she had prepared earlier, humming along quietly with the song on the wireless. After making sure the oven was hot enough, she popped the baking tin in and set a timer to remind herself to take it out later.

A tapping at the window caught her attention, and she hurried over to let the owl in. It dropped a paper in front of her and she rummaged through her pockets, finding enough change to pay the owl. After closing the window behind it, she looked out at the dark, penetrated by a few rays of light from the rising sun. She turned slowly and glimpsed at the paper then immediately wished she hadn't. A scene of destruction looked back at her. 'Hundreds dead as Dark Lord supporters attack Muggle parliament' was printed in big bold letters at the top. The picture beneath it showed a room, in which dozens of bodies could clearly be seen. Many were in their nightclothers. The furniture around them was strewn and shattered.

Turning the paper over, she cleared her mind and set about making a fresh pot of coffee. The wireless had stopped playing songs and was now broadcasting the news, so with a flick of her wand it clicked off. She didn't really want to hear it. Finding nothing else to do, she returned to her room and looked at herself in the mirror. Taking a brush and a hairtie, she pulled her hair up into a neat ponytail. Next she applied a little makeup, just like every other morning. Except this wasn't 'every other' morning. She dabbed on a tiny bit of perfume, pretending not to see the pictures lining the edges of her mirror. She looked at herself in the mirror, approvingly, then made her way back to the kitchen just as the timer went off. She pulled the baking tin out of the oven and left it to cool while pouring herself a cup of coffee.

With the caffeine running through her veins, she felt slightly better. It was as if her mind had suddenly awakened. She looked around, from the cooling brownies on the bench, to the coffee cup in her hand and gave a small laugh. She couldn't quite remember how she got there. With a shrug, she dusted the top of the brownies with a bit of icing sugar, then cut them into small pieces and put them on a plate. Soft footsteps behind her made her turn.

Molly looked at the sight before her. Her daughter Ginny, in the kitchen, cutting up warm brownies. Her hair was tied up and her make up on and a lump of brownie mixture was stuck to her shirt. It was like any other morning, except it wasn't. There was something different. Ginny looked up, and without a word, poured another cup of coffee. Molly watched silently. Ginny reminded her of herself when she was young.

"They're gone aren't they?" she finally asked into the silence. "They've gone to defeat him"

Ginny nodded, the lump in her throat growing larger and making it too hard for her to talk. She fought back tears. She handed Molly her cup of coffee, then picking up her own and the plate of brownies, they made their way to the table and sat down, looking at the paper, but neither reaching for it. Minutes went by as they sat in silence, neither of them daring to think about what was happening in the world around them. Finally the lump in Ginny's throat allowed her to speak.

"Ron said to tell you not to worry and that they love you and they will be home before you know it," she told her mother slowly, watching her face carefully. Finally the tears came, trickling down Molly's cheeks as she cried quietly. Ginny awkwardly hugged her, but would not let her own tears spill. It was how Arthur found them, a little while later. Ginny pulled back and just looked at her father, while Molly wiped her tears. Finally Ginny could bear it no longer. She picked up the plate and held it out, her own tears spilling over.

"Brownie?" she offered.

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A/N: Yup, weird little oneshot. Thought of this as I was making brownies and coffee. R/R. 


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